I sit down; take a long look at the man staring at me
That man in the mirror, crooked nose, eyes full of hope
In their reflections I see the ghost, of a man haunted by his past
The lines on my face, I didn’t make them
They just appeared, now I don’t have a name
I’m just a man in the mirror
Lavinia turns the gas stove on, My boy with his guitar playing me a song reminding me of when I was young
My bones ache, how can that be ? I thought I was only twenty three, I’m a champion boxer, yeah that’s me but look at my fingers, there all crooked
Photographs line the wall, an old trophy gathers dust in the hall
I hear the guitar playing and Lavinia’s call, you’ll always be a champion to me
What she doesn’t know, is when she’s away I put on a show, reach for my glove, dim down the light, getting ready for the big fight
But the hand doesn’t really fit that glove no more, and those shorts are kind of small, you could even say they were a little tight, I stand beneath the light
I’m ready now, sip some whisky and ponder round, waiting for the champ to come out, this one will be over by the fourth
Go back to the mirror in the hall, who’s this ******* guy standing in my shorts, wearing my gloves that are gathering dust, with 2 front teeth missing
A body too big for his clothes, and that ridiculous crooked nose, gray hair like it’s been gathering the dust too,
Suddenly the light comes on, **** Lavinia’s home, catches me standing all alone a sight for sore eyes
She takes me by the hand, sits me down, covers my pasty body with my old boxing gown, my vacant eyes looking around
She whispers “you’ll always be a champion to me”